


Poughkeepsie

by fangirlingtodeath513



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (see end notes for details about the needles and blood drinking), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blood Drinking, Djinnverse (Supernatural), M/M, Needles, Supernatural season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlingtodeath513/pseuds/fangirlingtodeath513
Summary: Poughkeepsie: drop everything and run.





	Poughkeepsie

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, been a while since I actually published something. You can thank [Jo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/60r3d0m) ([60r3d0m](https://60r3d0m.tumblr.com/)) for helping me figure out the monster for this fic, and getting me to finally write it. 
> 
> Check out the end notes for the info about the blood drinking and needles :)

Dean feels like he’s just fallen asleep when Sam kicks him awake and shoves a laptop in his face.

“Dude, check this out. People are going missing in Poughkeepsie, New York. Eight in the past six days.”

Bleary-eyed and staring up at Sam, he tries to take a second to process the words that just came out of his brother’s mouth. It’s too early in the morning, and it’s been too long since he’s gotten a good night’s sleep. Frowning, he sits up and runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Fine, but I’m showering first.”

“Awesome, I’ll drive.”

“You will not!” Dean shouts over his shoulder as he steps into the bathroom. “I just fixed her, you can keep your grubby hands off, thank you very much.” He shuts the door, rushing through a shower. Ten minutes later, teeth brushed and dressed in clothes that at least _smell_ clean, he steps into the room and lets Sam have the bathroom. Their bags get tossed in the trunk and Dean sits in the car, leg bouncing while he waits for Sam.

They’re on the road fifteen minutes later. Dean swings by a coffee shop and treats himself to a donut, munching on it as he drives. It’s a long way to Poughkeepsie, and he’s gotta do something to keep himself awake.

They pull into town late at night, so he heads for the first motel he sees. It’s a slightly more upscale one than they normally stay in, but it’s the same price, and neither he nor Sam are gonna complain about nicer digs. Sam gets a room while Dean drags their bags out of the trunk. Bags end up on the chairs surrounding the tiny table under the window, and both Sam and Dean collapse on the bed for the night.

 

Dean wakes up to Sam shuffling papers around on the table and cursing. As much as he’d like to roll over and go back to sleep, they’ve got a case to work on. “What’s up, Sammy?”

Sam sighs and Dean can almost _hear_ the eye roll. “None of these victims have anything in common. I’ve been pouring over their informations for a couple hours now, and there’s _nothing_.”

“There’s gotta be somethin’,” Dean replies with a frown. “Or we’re dealing with a monster that doesn’t give a shit who their victim is. Maybe we just have to find out how they came in contact with said monster.”

Sam turns to glare at him. “What exactly do you think I’ve been doing all morning, Dean?”

Dean raises his eyebrows, putting his hands up. “Jeez, man, chill out. Why don’t you go get us some breakfast and I’ll look it over with a fresh pair of eyes?”

Sam rips his jacket off the back of his chair and storms from the room. Dean watches him with raised eyebrows, pushing himself out of bed and over the the table.

It’s… a lot of research. With a sigh and lamenting the fact that he doesn’t have coffee for this, he digs in.

By the time Sam gets back, he’s nearly halfway through, and he simply holds a finger up to Sam while he finishes the page he’s on. A coffee and pastry are plopped in front of him and Dean is eternally grateful for his little brother.

“Alright, so you’re right, they don’t have anything in common. More than likely, we’re dealing with something that has no preference what it kills and possibly eats. Did you get autopsy reports?”

Sam sighs and nods. “Drained of blood. I was kinda thinking we might have a pack of vamps, but there were only needle punctures on the victim’s arms, and all of them had given blood recently.”

“Whoa, hang on, they’d all donated blood?”

Shaking his head, Sam shuffles through some of the papers and sets a few in front of Dean. “Most had, yeah, but three of them had to give blood for a doctor’s check-up. They all went to different places and had their blood drawn by different people, though, so nothing there adds up.”

Dean deflates with a frown. “Huh. Guess we’d better ask around town then, see if anyone’s seen anything weird lately.”

One long day of talking to locals behind them, and they’ve still got nothing. Every single person they’d talked to was tight-lipped about what was going on in town, and the one person they’d managed to talk to that wasn’t had only pointed them to an old warehouse that’s been deserted for decades.

“Great,” Dean mutters, kicking a rock across the similarly-deserted parking lot of said warehouse. “Now we get to stake out a crumbling warehouse in the hopes that somethin’s gonna go bump in the night, and we both know damn well nothing will.”

Sam rolls his eyes at him, grabbing his gun. “I’m gonna go check the outside of the building, see if I can find something. You coming, or are you gonna stay here and bitch?”

Dean scoffs, grabbing his own gun and barely resisting stomping his feet like the toddler he feels like at the moment. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

They split up when they get to the building, Sam heading around the left while Dean takes the right. They meet up in the back, straddling overgrown weeds and garbage with matching looks of disgust.

“Anything?” Sam whispers, sighing when Dean shakes his head. “Me either. Back to the car, then.”

 

“Good morning, Dean,” a husky voice purrs against his neck. There’s a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin below his ear that has Dean shivering and snuggling back against the person behind him. A person much more solid than he was expecting. Tensing, he shifts to face the person behind him. “You okay, babe?”

Dean looks the guy over, just a little off-kilter. “Uh, yeah, just… a weird dream, I guess. Morning.”

The guy leans in for a kiss, and Dean really can’t think of a reason _not_ to, so he lets his eyes slip shut as soft, plush lips meet his. The hint of scruff rubbing against his own is delicious and has a heat building low in Dean’s belly in moments. He’s still a little uneasy from his dream, so he pulls back from the kiss with a soft smile. “Breakfast?”

The guy—god, he really wishes he could remember his name—smiles at him and stretches, all lean muscle and soft skin brushing against Dean’s side. Eventually, after a few more languid kisses, they push themselves out of bed and head to the kitchen.

“James,” Dean mutters under his breath, letting out a relieved sigh when he finally remembers his boyfriend’s name. Apparently it’s gonna be that kind of a morning.

“Eggs and bacon okay? I’ll make them if you make the coffee.”

Dean grins. “Hell yeah, man, your breakfasts are the best.” He presses a kiss to the back of James’ neck before he turns to get the coffee started.

Soon enough, the smell of coffee and bacon fills the kitchen, and Dean honestly couldn’t think of a better morning if he tried. He finishes setting the coffee up well before James is done, so he leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his bare chest and admires his boyfriend as he cooks. He’s beautiful. Bed-ruffled brown hair, chocolatey-brown eyes and a dusting of hair just above his boxers that has Dean wishing he could see more.

“I’m almost done, I swear,” James says with a laugh, smirking when she sees the confusion on Dean’s face. “You look like you wanna eat me.”

At that, Dean smirks back. “Maybe after breakfast. Gotta have something to look forward to, right?”

Dean doesn’t miss the dilated pupils just before James turns his attention back to the food and now he’s more than a little excited for what happens after breakfast.

 

Dean gets home from work three days later to find Sam sitting in his living room. Frowning, Dean sets his bag on the floor and kicks his shoes off. “Look, just cause I gave you a key doesn’t mean you can just hang out when you’re bored.”

“Dean,” Sam gasps, springing off the couch. “Wow, I didn’t think that would work. Listen, this isn’t real, okay? A bunch of djinn ambushed us.”

Dean frowns. “A bunch of… what? You been drinkin’, Sammy?”

“Dude, no, come on. You have to remember. We were checking out a case in Poughkeepsie and we went to stake out this old, decrepit warehouse one of the locals told us about.”

Raising an eyebrow, Dean shakes his head. “You okay, man? You hit your head or something? Spare bedroom’s made up if you wanna go lay down.”

Sam lets out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. “We were at the warehouse, we checked the outside of the building, and then a couple of them jumped down on us and attacked us. By the time I got the one off me, you were already gone.”

“Dude, _seriously_ , did you take something? I don’t really want your drugged-up ass here when—”

“Babe? You home yet?”

Dean flinches when he hears his boyfriend’s voice. Sam gapes at him as James rounds the corner and stops in his tracks.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t realize… Right, I’ll just head upstairs, I guess.” His fingers brush the small of Dean’s back as he passes, out of Sam’s line of sight. When he’s upstairs and out of sight, Sam turns a confused glance Dean’s way.

“I didn’t know you were into dudes.” Sam frowns, head tilting to his right after a moment. “Actually, no, that explains a lot.” Shaking his head, Sam sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Right, whatever, not the problem here. This isn’t real, Dean. You’re in a dream world. _He’s_ not real. You’ve gotta wake up or you’ll die in here.”

Right, well, so much for explaining himself. Rolling his eyes, he sits on the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table. “Seriously, man, whatever you’re on, I don’t want any part of it.”

Sam glares at him. “I’m not messing around here, Dean. Wake up!”

Maybe Sam’s right. He doesn’t really remember anything before waking up in bed with James a few days ago, which is weird. He’s not really sure what a djinn is, but Sam seems to know what he’s talking about. Maybe this is all fake.

Suddenly everything goes blurry. He can’t see Sam anymore, and it feels like his apartment drops out from under him. He thinks he yells out something, but he can’t hear it.

“Dean. Dean!”

Blinking wearily, his eyes focus to find Sam standing in front of him, pure terror on his face. He only has a second of confusion before everything comes flooding back—the warehouse, the djinn attacking them, Dean getting dragged away despite his best efforts to the contrary and being strung up and bled. Frowning, he glances up and spots the needle in his arm, still draining him of his blood. Sam’s hands reach up, but they go right past the needle and cut the rope holding Dean’s arms in the air. All the sudden weight on his legs makes him stumble, but Sam catches him and hands him a rag after he pulls the needle out.

“We gotta go, there’s way too many of them. I saw six that attacked us, and at least two more inside. We can’t do this on our own.”

Dean can’t really walk, so one arm gets flung over Sam’s shoulders and he’s basically dragged back to the car. Sam deposits him in the back seat and out the back window as they drive away, he can see ten dark figures in the shadows of the buildings.

 

It takes Dean about two weeks to regain his strength after their djinn encounter. They’re far away from Poughkeepsie at that point, but they’d gotten confirmation a week ago that the entire nest of djinn was taken care of, thanks to a few of Bobby’s hunter friends.

“It’d make a good code word,” Sam says over breakfast one morning, a slight smirk on his face.

Dean raises an eyebrow at him, more than a little confused. Most of his attention is focused on their current case, some weird deaths at a soon-to-be-closed inn.

“Poughkeepsie,” Sam explains, like that’ll actually let Dean figure out what the hell he’s talking about.

“Code word for what?”

Sam snorts. “Drop everything and run? It’s literally what we did.”

Dean frowns, but nods after a moment. “Yeah, probably should have one for somethin’ like that. Works for me.”

Sam nods and turns back to his research, but Dean can tell he’s not finished. Sure enough, less than a minute later, Sam nonchalantly says, “so are we going to talk about your djinn dream?”

“No,” Dean replies sharply, glaring at Sam over the top of his laptop. “We absolutely are not, don’t even bring it up again. How’d you even get in my dream, anyway?”

Sam shrugs, poorly hiding the smirk on his face. “Read something about how ingesting the djinn poison with some of a victim’s blood will put you in the same world. Figured it was worth a shot.”

Dean wrinkles his nose. “Dude, _ew_ , you drank my blood?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “It was, like, two drops. Would you prefer I let you die?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Dean mutters, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t, so now you can tell me all about your dream boyfriend,” Sam replies with a choked-off laugh, covering his mouth to hide his grin.

“Yep, definitely rather be dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> Needles: Dean is punctured with a needle to drain his blood while held captive by the Djinn. Sam pulls the needle out, though it's not described in detail. 
> 
> Blood drinking: Sam drinks a few drops of Dean's Djinn-infected blood to enter his Djinnverse. Not described in detail, just mentioned near the end of the fic.
> 
> Find **this fic** on [Tumblr](https://fangirlingtodeath513.tumblr.com/post/183036703319/read-here-on-ao3warnings-needles-blood-drinking) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/511817)  
>   
> Find **me** on [Tumblr](https://fangirlingtodeath513.tumblr.com/) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/fangirlingtodeath513)  
>   
>  **Please don’t post my works anywhere without my permission.**


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